Breakable
by Soleya
Summary: When Carter is critically injured on a mission, Jack struggles to carry on. This version is kid-friendly; the uncensored version is available on the Sam & Jack: Always & Forever site - the link is in my profile.
1. Chapter 1

"Any questions?"

Colonel Jack O'Neill looked out over the large briefing room as nineteen men – well, eighteen plus Carter – shook their heads at him. Man, he loved tactical briefings.

"Okay. Then as a final word, I want to remind you – this is rogue N.I.D. we're talking about. They have already infiltrated this planet and made themselves at home, and we don't really know what's in that warehouse. Keep your heads up and your eyes out for each other. Clear?"

"Yes, sir!" they said as one.

"Good. We leave in an hour. Dismissed."

The room quickly cleared, and Carter stepped up to the podium to disconnect the laptop Jack had been using from the video screens behind it. "Nicely done, sir," she said.

"Thanks, Carter. Strategy is the one thing I'm supposed to be good at, after all."

"Being a good tactician and sharing that knowledge with others don't necessarily go together, sir. Colonel Berkshire at the Academy was brilliant, but his lectures…" She shook her head sadly.

He chuckled, but quickly turned serious. "You ready for this, Carter?"

"To leap through the gate into danger without really knowing what we're getting ourselves into? I never thought I'd say this, but it's becoming sort of old hat, sir. I just hope we're wrong."

Two days ago, the SGC had received information – from an anonymous source, of course – that the N.I.D. had set up a research facility on P4C-672. In it, the source claimed, they were trying to create programmable replicators.

"_What_?" Sam had exclaimed.

"And how the hell did they get to another planet?" That had been Daniel.

Jack had just shrugged at that. "Blame the Russians."

"But they can't… That's not… What the hell are they thinking?" Carter had stuttered. "The last thing we need is an army of replicators that close to Earth."

"Let alone an army of replicators working for the N.I.D.," Jack had put in with a wry smile.

"No, sir. They can't be controlled. We've seen that," she'd insisted.

"Well, then… I guess we'll just have to stop them, Carter."

Over the two days since, O'Neill and General Hammond had put together a plan to siege the building and destroy whatever technology and intel the N.I.D. was storing there. If the N.I.D. succeeded in building replicators, there would be trouble.

In the next hour, the SGC would be embarking on a mission that could help save the galaxy. And somehow, that too was no longer surprising.

~/~

O'Neill moved swiftly along one of the hallways in the massive, open warehouse, weapon at the ready. The infiltration had gone well on their end, with only minor injuries, but there were additional agents scattered throughout the building, they knew. SG-1 and the two marine teams were sweeping the building, hall by hall, while SG-11 and SG-15 dismantled the lab they'd found.

Jack would willingly tell anyone that this was his least favorite part of his job. Creeping down hallways (or alleys or forests, for that matter) hunting down men who knew the territory and had ample time to find hiding places with good vantage points was never, ever fun.

Part of him wanted to just burn the research and run, but he knew that if they didn't round up all the agents now, they'd pop up again soon enough. And who knew what they'd be up to then?

The colonel came to a side hallway and stopped, looking through the darkness. The main hall was empty, but this one was full of crates and doors. Lots of hiding spaces. But as much as he wanted to check it out, crossing the main hall meant leaving the shelter of the second floor overhang. He knew he should call for backup. Should.

Cautiously, Jack checked in all directions and darted across the hallway, slamming his back to the opposite wall and sweeping his weapon across the second floor railing. It was empty. He swung into the side hall, weapon first, and started slowly making his way down it, clearing every nook and cranny before moving on to the next.

A light was on, spilling out from beneath a closed door. He checked the area, then swiftly knocked the door open. The room was clear.

He had to admit, he was a little disappointed. He had yet to shoot an N.I.D. agent today, and he found that a bit sad. He left the room and was about to continue his sweep when he heard a board crack behind him.

"Colonel!"

A bullet whizzed past his ear, followed by a groan and a crack from behind him. He swung around to find an agent lying on the floor, his gun several feet away. Spinning toward the direction of the shot, he found Carter standing on the second floor balcony.

"You okay, sir?" she called.

"Nice shot, Carter. You almost took my head off." But he was grinning.

She put a hand over her mouth, wide-eyed, playing innocent. "Oops." Then she got serious again. "The west side of the building is clear, sir. Give me a minute, and I'll join you."

"Sounds good."

She made her way carefully toward the steps as the colonel moved back toward the main hallway. He put his back up against the wall again and ran his gaze along the balcony, starting off in the black and moving toward her.

Sam intended to meet his eyes with a smile, but his gaze jumped the last ten feet straight to her, and his face hardened as his weapon came up. "Carter!"

Tensing, Carter brought her weapon up as she spun around. She just barely caught sight of the pipe as it slammed into the side of her head.

"No!" Jack cried as Sam's body twisted and melted to the floor. It exposed her attacker, and the colonel fired off two rounds, dropping the man. Then he was running, moving faster than his old legs were supposed to carry him. She was okay, he told himself with every step. She'd be okay.

But she was face down, still, and his breath caught as he knelt beside her. "Carter," he whispered, hands shaking as he took her shoulders and rolled her gently into his lap. "Carter, wake up," he pleaded. "Come on." Her head lolled vacantly against his chest.

The left side of her face was covered in blood, and behind her temple, the bone was sunken. His free hand moved shakily over her, desperately seeking some way to help her. His heart was so tight in his chest that it hurt. "No. No, no, no…."

"Jack?" Daniel was down the hallway, but moving fast. "We heard shots. You okay?"

He reached them, took one look at Carter, and stopped dead. "Oh, my God," he said softly.

"We must return Major Carter to the SGC, Colonel O'Neill," Teal'c spoke up behind them.

Jack didn't move, didn't acknowledge them, his eyes glued to his 2IC. "Teal'c, get her," Daniel finally ordered, then grabbed his radio. "Colonel Reynolds, this is Daniel. Sam's injured. Badly."

"Do you need assistance, Dr. Jackson?" Reynolds' voice crackled back.

"No, SG-1 is gonna fall back to the gate."

"SG Leader, this is Reynolds. Are you copying this?"

He meant Jack, but the man wasn't listening at all. Teal'c was already carrying Sam toward the exit, but Colonel O'Neill hadn't moved. "Jack's a little occupied right now," Daniel answered. "I guess you're in charge."

"Acknowledged. Godspeed, Dr. Jackson."

As he pulled his best friend off the floor, he was grateful for the little prayer. He was pretty certain they were going to need everything they could get.


	2. Chapter 2

Dr. Frasier's face paled as Teal'c placed Sam gently on the stretcher in the Gate room. "Sam?" she called, rubbing her fist hard against her friend's sternum to wake her. When that failed, she whipped out her pen and pushed it into Sam's nail bed.

Neither trick worked, and she swore. "Ready the intubation kit," she ordered, flashing a penlight in Sam's eyes. She then took the tools she was handed and neatly placed a tube down her friend's throat, leaving a nurse to attach a bag and start pumping air into Carter's lungs.

The stretcher ran toward the infirmary, but Janet stayed behind a minute, her eyes moving to where General Hammond stood in the corner of the room. "Call the Academy," she said softly. "Ask for Dr. Jake Heiser and get him here. Now."

"I'm on it, sir," Walter said from the control room, and Janet disappeared.

~/~

It had been hours since they'd stepped through the Gate. Daniel had been pacing on and off, frustrated. Teal'c, as usual, stood silent watch in one corner. But they were both concerned about Jack, who had sunken into the chair closest to the door and not moved.

It was General Hammond who finally approached him on one of his brief visits. "Colonel," he said softly, sitting close to the man, "you should get cleaned up."

Jack didn't move.

"Son. When she gets out of surgery, she's gonna need you with her. You know that."

After a moment, he nodded.

"You can't go see her like that. You'll scare her, son."

Jack looked up in surprise, then looked down and started, as if shocked to see the blood that covered his hands and uniform. "God," he breathed.

General Hammond put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Go shower and change, son. You'll be back in no time, and better for it. Better for her."

He chewed on that for a second. "Yes, sir," he said finally, then stood and left the room.

The general watched him go with a sigh, then looked at the other two. "I don't suppose either of you two know what happened out there."

"I do not," Teal'c intoned.

Daniel just shook his head. Hammond nodded and left the room.

~/~

Just past the eight hour mark, the two doctors emerged from surgery down the hall. Janet's face was red, her eyes downcast, and instead of approaching them, she ducked into her office and shut the door.

The other man approached. "I understand Major Carter is a good friend of hers," he began, "and it's been a long few hours. I hope you won't mind talking to me. I'm Dr. Heiser, neurosurgeon at the Academy Hospital."

"How is she?" Daniel asked softly.

"She came through the surgery very well. Part of her skull was crushed, but we've cleaned out the wound-"

"Wound?" Daniel interrupted. "You mean her brain."

"I do. Obviously, that is a concern, but we believe we've removed all the debris and stopped the bleeding."

"Major Carter will then recover," Teal'c put in.

Dr. Heiser took a deep breath. "I'm afraid I need you to understand that when it comes to traumatic brain injury, surgery is only the beginning. If I were to operate on your arm or your knee, it would swell – increasing the blood flow is the body's natural reaction to speed healing. When the body senses an injury to the brain, it does the same thing. But since the brain is completely enclosed, the swelling just causes increased pressure. That pressure can cause further injury, so the body increases the blood flow, and the cycle continues."

"How do you stop it, Doctor?" General Hammond had stepped just inside the door.

"General," the doctor greeted. "The only thing we can do is stop the body from reacting. It's called a drug-induced coma. That means we've sedated her into a state of extremely low brain activity."

"Such an action does not seem safe."

Dr. Heiser looked at the large man in mild surprise. "Well, no. But it's the only way we have to help her brain heal."

Jack looked up for the first time. "Can we see her?"

"For a bit. You'll need to scrub in." He called over a nurse and instructed her to help them. "I'll be back and forth to check on her in the coming days."

General Hammond nodded and left. Daniel watched his friends head toward the nurse, but shook his head. "I'll be there in a minute."

Swallowing hard, he headed for Janet's door. He knocked gently and tried the knob, but something was blocking it. Janet, he guessed. After a moment, she moved and the door swung open. She was sitting against the wall next to it, and he slid down next to her.

When she looked up at him, she was crying. "It's bad, Daniel," she whispered. "It's really bad."

"Shhh…" He wrapped his arms around her and let her sob into his shoulder. He was trying to be positive, really. But with every falling tear, his sense of dread choked him a little more.

~/~

Teal'c watched from his normal position next to the door as his commanding officer fidgeted in his chair. He hadn't let go of Samantha Carter's hand since he had entered the room.

Even to Teal'c's eyes, the situation looked dire. His friend's head was completely wrapped in white gauze. One tube went up her nose and another into her mouth, both taped firmly in place. More tape held her eyelids closed, and electrodes were attached every few inches across her forehead. Very little of her face was visible past the medical equipment.

A nurse stepped into the room. "Sirs, Dr. Heiser has requested that visitation time be limited for Major Carter right now. If you don't mind…"

Neither man moved.

"Colonel O'Neill will remain," Teal'c told her. "Doctor Frasier will approve it."

She bit her lip. "Okay."

"I will leave shortly."

"Okay." The nurse left.

"Are you in need of supplies, O'Neill?"

Jack shook his head.

"Very well. I will be outside." True to his word, Teal'c switched his guard post from the inside to the outside of the door and settled in for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

"Doctor Jackson."

The voice was quiet so as not to wake up Colonel O'Neill, who slept in the chair opposite the bed. Daniel turned in his chair to see Colonel Reynolds standing in the door. "Colonel. I've been meaning to come find you." He'd meant to do a lot in the last week, and next to none of it had gotten done.

"I just wanted to let you know that we got it all wrapped up. The agents are in federal custody, and everything we didn't destroy arrived at Area 51 today. I'm only sorry Major Carter won't get a chance to look at it – we confiscated some pretty nice stuff."

Daniel smiled a little.

"How is she?"

"Ah, they say the swelling is going down, so that's good. Look, Bill, I wanted to thank you. I know we probably didn't handle that like we should have."

Reynolds shook his head. "Daniel, if it had been somebody on my team, I'd have done anything it took to get them back here alive. And you guys would've helped me do it." He looked at the woman in the bed and the man sleeping beside her for a long moment. "If we can do anything, please…"

"Thanks." Daniel tightened his grip on Sam's hand, and Reynolds left.

~/~

At the one week mark, General Hammond gently suggested that they all return to light duty – something other than stand around a hospital room. Teal'c and Daniel agreed; Jack told the general to start using up his leave.

"I never use it," he said.

"Son, it would be good for you to get out of this room."

Jack just shook his head.

~/~

At two weeks, they were all summoned to the general's office – no exceptions, the messenger said. When SG-1 arrived, Janet and Dr. Heiser were already there.

"SG-1, I'm afraid I have some bad news," Hammond said.

Daniel glanced between the two doctors, confused. "Shouldn't the bad news be coming from them, General?"

"I'm afraid the Air Force feels that the SGC isn't the appropriate place for someone in Major Carter's condition. They want her transferred out of here."

"No," Jack said immediately. "She needs to be with us."

"Colonel." This time it was Janet, and she looked resigned. "Believe me, I want her here, too. She's my best friend. And I've been fighting this for two weeks, but the reality is that, when something big happens around here, we're strapped. And we're just not equipped for something like this. She'd get better care in a hospital with a neurology department."

"I promise you she'll get the best I can provide," Dr. Heiser spoke up.

"I would hope," Teal'c said dryly, and the man twitched at the implied threat.

"General, can't you pull some strings? I mean, at least for a little while," Daniel said. "If she wakes up and we're not there, we'd feel terrible."

The general sighed. "I've already pulled every string I've got, son. The Academy Hospital was a victory – they wanted to send her to Keesler as soon as she was stable."

"But isn't that in-"

"Mississippi," Jack groaned.

"Doctor Jackson, believe me when I say that Sam is an incredible fighter," the neurologist answered. "But there is zero chance of her regaining consciousness while on the level sedatives she's currently getting. And I won't even consider lowering the dose for at least another four to six weeks. She won't wake up without you, but I would still encourage you to stay with her as much as you can."

Out of habit, SG-1, troubled, looked to Jack. Though he hated having her even in the next room, a real hospital was no worse than anyone else had it – and he still had weeks of leave. "You gonna pull that visiting hours crap on us?" he asked. "Since we're not technically family?"

"No," the neurologist promised, a little concerned at who these three would knock over to reach Major Carter if he tried. "Studies have proven that visits and interaction can have an effect on coma patients. I'll get you cleared."

Jack looked the man over critically for a minute, then nodded. "Okay."

~/~

By the end of week three, Sam's friends had worked out a rotation schedule with SG-1, Janet, and – when they were desperate – Cassie. But Colonel O'Neill was there most of the time, shift or no shift.

He had once walked in to find Colonel Reynolds sitting by the bed. The man had been visiting, he'd said, and Daniel had been called back to the base, so he'd stayed. "We'll do whatever we have to, Jack," he'd told him.

Sergeant Siler had volunteered as well, though the colonel had yet to take either of them up on it. He had only occasionally left her side.

"So, I was thinking," the colonel murmured, leaning his elbows on the bed with Sam's hand in his. "I know you don't like to fish, but there're no fish anyway, really. Or so says Teal'c. But there's a killer waterfall not too far away. And the sunsets there… You should give it a shot, huh?"

But of course, she didn't answer. And Jack had never been great with conversations, especially one-sided ones. He fell back in his chair. "Well, think about it."

A gentle knock sounded on the door and General Hammond stepped inside. It was the first time he'd been by since the transfer, which Jack had understood – the man had a base to run. But it was two o'clock on a Thursday. "Bad news?" he asked.

"Colonel, I've got a mission for SG-1."

"When?"

"You'll leave Monday for three days. I wanted to give you some warning."

"We can't do that, sir."

"Son," the older man said softly, "I'm afraid I'm not giving you a choice."

Jack met his eyes evenly. "There's always a choice, General. I can always resign."

The general scrubbed his bald head for a moment. "Major Carter would not want that, Colonel, and you know it. You need to get back to work. It would do you good to spend some time away from here."

Agitated, the colonel jumped out of his chair and began to pace. "You don't understand," he fumed. "She's here because of me. I wasn't there for her when she needed me; I'm damn well not going to leave her now."

General Hammond raised his eyebrows – that was the most he'd said about what had happened on the planet. "Son, listen to me. Yes, Major Carter needs the company, but she needs more than that. You're her CO, Colonel, and she needs you to keep SG-1 up and running for her. It'll be hard enough for her to readjust as it is. Don't let the rest of her life fall apart while she's here. SG-1 is all she knows."

Jack stopped pacing and met his eyes, and the general knew he'd made his point. "I'm not ready to leave her," he whispered sadly.

"You never will be. But I promise you, we'll watch over her."

Defeated, the colonel returned to the bed and sank back into his chair. He gently lifted Sam's hand and pressed his face against it. When he spoke, it was so quiet it left the general straining to hear. "I'm sorry, Carter. I'm so sorry."

~/~

Week six, Dr. Heiser called them all in for a meeting and announced that they would be discontinuing the sedatives that were keeping her unconscious. "The swelling has mostly dissipated," he said, "and the scans look good. The drugs will clear her system in a few days, and with any luck, she'll wake up soon after that."

"And if she does not?" Teal'c asked.

"Then we wait, just like we've been doing, looking for any change." He pulled a few papers from his desk and handed one to each of them. "This sheet spells out both the Glasgow Coma Scale and the Ranchos Los Amigos Scale for evaluating recovery. She's currently a Level One – completely unresponsive. But we'll be looking for any sort of improvement: breathing on her own, sounds, movement in response to pain."

"So you're hopeful," Daniel prompted.

"I am. But I'd like you to look at this sheet, especially the recovery part. I need to warn you that recovery for an injury like this can take time, and patients may plateau at different levels. You'll need to be very patient with her."

"We can do that," Jack assured him.

"But eventually…" Daniel didn't really want to ask the question.

"Eventually, hopefully, Major Carter will be back to her old self," Dr. Heiser told him. "But I need you to be prepared if that's not the case."

General Hammond grounded them that week, allowing them to spend more time at the hospital. The team interacted with renewed vigor, telling Sam stories and watching for any change. A few days later, they watched tersely as the doctor removed her respirator, and Daniel let out a cheer when she began to breathe on her own.

But the end of the week came and went with no change, and while they only spoke positively, they knew that the clock had started all over again.


	4. Chapter 4

It was week nine when General Hammond called them in for a pre-mission briefing about P4X-889. Daniel stuffed a muffin in his mouth as he followed Jack up the steps to the conference room.

But Jack stopped short at the entrance, and Daniel rammed into him from behind, grateful only that he didn't smear muffin all over the back of his friend's uniform shirt. "Jack?" he asked, but the man didn't answer.

As the colonel stepped inside and cleared the doorway, Daniel finally saw what had given him pause. General Hammond sat in his normal chair, as did Teal'c, but a man he didn't recognize sat to the General's left. His uniform held two silver bars, an insignia Sam had worn for a long time. "Captain," he greeted, and took a chair.

"Doctor Jackson," he replied with a smile.

Jack took a seat as far away from the man as possible.

"Can I assume you've all read SG-22's report?" General Hammond began. They nodded – even Jack. With so much free time on their hands in the hospital, SG-1 was up on all their paperwork.

"Good." The general began to brief them on their mission. The planet contained naquadah, and the locals had found a way to use it as a power source. Higher ups on Earth, of course, wanted more information. The man, who General Hammond introduced as Michael Robeson, was to help them with the science.

In essence, Daniel thought, he was playing Sam for this mission.

Colonel O'Neill sat through the entire briefing in silence. It was only when everyone stood to leave that he spoke, still sitting. "Well played, General. Well played."

Teal'c cocked his head in the same confusion that Daniel felt as General Hammond turned back and met the colonel's eyes evenly. "Jack?" Daniel asked.

"I really wouldn't have thought you had it in you," O'Neill growled, "to do that with a straight face. Nicely done."

"Colonel-"

"Jack, what are you talking about?" Daniel demanded.

His friend got to his feet slowly, but didn't break eye contact with his CO. "The general gave me a good ol' Hammond pep talk not too long ago. About keeping SG-1 up and running – for Carter's sake," he spat.

"So?"

Teal'c stepped in. "I do not believe General Hammond mentioned that there would no longer be a place for her in it."

Daniel's heart sank as understanding hit. Robeson wasn't just playing Sam; he was replacing her. For good. "General, you can't!" he exclaimed.

"Doctor Jackson, stop," Hammond ordered.

"General, she's not dead. They're still saying there's hope! Please!"

"Colonel O'Neill, control your team," the general tried again.

"I don't think so. I'm done," he answered angrily, shoving off from the table and heading for the door.

It was Captain Robeson who finally regained control of the situation. "Colonel, General, may I speak?" he asked. Loudly.

"No!" Jack roared.

He continued his march for the door, but Robeson beat him to it, blocking Jack's only exit. "Just one minute of your time, Colonel. Please."

Daniel was a little bit afraid for the man – Jack looked murderous. But the man didn't back down, and the colonel finally stepped back. "Make it quick."

"I don't want to replace Major Carter. I want to help her."

"And how's that?" Jack challenged.

"Sam and I were in the same master's program. I consider her to be a friend of mine. I want her to get better as much as you do, but please consider this: even if she woke up tomorrow, she would need months of therapy before she could return to active duty. You know she wouldn't want to put you all in danger by keeping you shorthanded."

The colonel's teeth unclenched, and Robeson pressed on, quieter this time. "Look, this assignment is a dream. Anybody would be insane not to go after it. But I'm not some hotshot looking to profit from her misery. She would want someone out there to watch your back. Let me do this for her. Please."

When Jack still didn't move, he added, "As soon as she's ready to come back, I'll be gone. I swear."

Colonel O'Neill spun on the general. "Did you hear that?"

Hammond sighed, still fairly annoyed. "I heard it."

"And you agree? She'll get her spot back."

"Major Carter can return to SG-1, yes."

Jack clapped Robeson on the shoulder. "Gear up, Captain." The man smiled and left, and Jack turned thoughtfully back to General Hammond. "You're a good man, George," he quipped, and disappeared.

Hammond closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to tamp down his annoyance with a certain rebellious colonel. When he opened them, Daniel and Teal'c were still looking at him. "Out," he ordered, irritated, and they headed for the door.

"Doctor Jackson," he added after a moment. Daniel stuck his head back through the doorway. "It was never going to be permanent."

"Yes, sir." Daniel smiled and left.

~/~

Week eleven brought a bit of surprise, but only that Robeson was two weeks into his assignment and still alive. No other man had ever lasted that long in any capacity with SG-1.

While Mike was trying his best, it was a different team without Sam. She mitigated them a bit, Daniel had realized. With her, they were… classier. Without her, they were just four military guys on a camping trip. The language was a little more raw, the jokes a little more raunchy.

As much as he hated himself for it, the devil on Daniel's shoulder was kind of enjoying it. Just a little. And he was paying for it by spending even more time at Sam's bedside.

"And so the Ashrach said to the Nox, 'Hide and Seek!'"

Jack ducked into the room just in time for the punch line. "Daniel, there is no way in hell that joke was funny."

"You missed the setup!"

"Don't care. No way." He handed Daniel the cup of coffee he'd gone for. "But they did say they were looking for a response to pain, so keep going."

"Ouch, Jack. Ouch." But he ceded his chair to the older man, and Jack took his normal stance, one leg stuck out, one elbow on the bed, Sam's hand in his.

"Sorry 'bout that, Carter," he said. "Y'know, when you wake up, you're gonna have to tell me about Robeson. He's almost as good a MacGyver as you are."

"Y'know, I wonder…"

Jack looked up. "That can't be good."

"I was just thinking. Sam holds a doctorate in astrophysics, right? But Mike said they were in the same master's program. I'm just not positive it was the same thing."

"Doesn't it have to be?" Jack had barely made it through college, what did he know?

Daniel shrugged. "She could have more than one."

"More than one what?"

"Masters degree." The younger man looked at Sam and chuckled. "Have you noticed Mike is older than she is?"

"Yeah, so?"

"It's just funny. She's just too young for everything she's done."

There was a knock at the door. It opened and Mike Robeson stepped tentatively inside. "Uh… sorry to interrupt," he said softly. It was his first time in the hospital room, and his gaze fell upon Carter and froze there. His brow furrowed. "Wow, she's… thin."

"She's lost about fifteen pounds," Daniel answered. Fifteen pounds she couldn't afford in the first place, but Daniel kept that to himself. They didn't say negative things in the room, not knowing for certain if she could hear them. "What's up, Mike?" he asked.

The other man wrenched his gaze away. "Oh. General Hammond asked me to come tell you – there's a nasty storm brewing on M4X-552. We're on delay until at least 1600 tomorrow, maybe later."

"Thanks, Robeson." The colonel shot him a grateful smile, and Robeson backed apologetically out of the room.

"Y'know, I like him," Daniel said.

"You like everybody. And he's no Carter."

"That I can't argue with."


	5. Chapter 5

Week twelve included 'find the Tok'ra to fix Sam' mission number seven – and that was just for SG-1. As usual, they were nowhere to be found when they were needed.

"Y'know, some of these inscriptions look fairly recent," Daniel muttered from behind a relic. "It's possible that the Tok'ra were here in the not-so-distant past."

"But are they still here?" Jack asked.

"Or any clues on where they might have gone?"

Ah, the newbie. "Nah," the colonel answered. "The Tok'ra take moving pretty seriously."

"You never know. Jacob might leave something. Sometime. Maybe," Daniel said. "It's worth checking the ruins. Hell, maybe they left someone behind."

"I do not believe they would leave a survivor who could reveal their new location," Teal'c intoned.

"Way to be positive, buddy." Jack punched him neatly in the arm. Teal'c didn't budge. "But if somebody gated back to home base a little too late… they might be stranded."

"Secretive sort, huh?"

"You could say that," Daniel told the captain.

"SG-1, this is Hammond; come in."

Jack started a bit at the sound of his radio and locked eyes with Teal'c. They weren't due to check in for over two hours.

"SGC, this is SG Leader. What's going on, General?"

"How are you progressing with the ruins, Colonel?"

"Two down, two to go, sir. We're still planning on camping tonight." He didn't want to know, but he had to ask. "How's Carter, sir?"

The silence lasted long enough to make Jack's heart slow to a stop in his chest. "Son," Hammond's voice said finally, "check the ruins and get back here as soon as you can."

Daniel stopped working and got to his feet, his face grave. He keyed his radio. "General, tell us. Please."

"Major Carter started having seizures earlier this evening. They haven't been able to stop them. They're planning to operate in an hour."

Captain Robeson glanced from each man to the other slowly. Daniel's eyes were red and downcast; Teal'c's were closed. And Colonel O'Neill just stared at the ground, kicking it over and over.

"Acknowledged, General. We'll be home soon," the captain spoke into his radio. "Sir." This time, it was aimed at the colonel. "We should split up. If you and Daniel take the ruins to the east, Teal'c and I can check and document the ones to the west. We should be able to rendezvous at the gate in six hours or less."

Jack looked up in surprise. "I like it. Daniel, you done here?"

"I can be. Let's go."

~/~

Seven hours later, SG-1 rushed into Sam's hospital room. It was early in the morning on Earth, and Janet looked like she'd been up all night. "It went well" were her first words.

"What happened?" Jack asked.

"Sam started seizing last night. We finally had to operate to stop them, and we found two tiny bone shards. We must have missed them in the first operation, and they were too small and too close to her skull to show up on the brain scans."

"And?" Daniel prompted.

"No seizures since." She smiled. "And there's more."

Teal'c tipped his head.

"Check this out." Like she'd done when Sam first came through the Gate, she pulled out her pen and pushed it into Sam's nail bed. The muscle in Sam's arm twitched. "That," Janet announced, "is a Level Two response to pain."


	6. Chapter 6

The mood in the entire SGC had lifted with Carter's upgraded condition. The flowers and cards had started coming again in earnest, and Sam's room was quickly filling up with them. There was no place left to put anything.

SG-1 was thrilled, of course, but a stranger wouldn't have known it from their behavior. They had reached the point where they were telling the same stories over and over – and even if Sam hadn't heard the first eight iterations of it, someone else had. They were driving each other nuts. Siler had finally resorted to giving Daniel the technical reports on the Gate upgrade to read to her, but, since he didn't know what half of it meant, that was fairly dull.

He was in the middle of it when Robeson knocked and stuck his head in. "Just wanted to see if you guys needed anything," he offered.

"Got your gun?" Jack drawled, looking pointedly at Daniel.

"If you have a better idea, Jack, have at it. But so help me, if the story involves fishing, I will kill you."

"I will assist," Teal'c put in dryly.

"Hey, at least my fishing stories are better than your descriptions of Jaffa ceremonies!" Jack exclaimed, offended.

Teal'c shrugged – well, as close to a shrug as the man got. "I am open to suggestions, O'Neill."

"I think if any of us had suggestions, we'd use them ourselves," Daniel groaned. But his eyes fell upon Captain Robeson, and his eyes lit up a bit. "Hey, Mike!"

The captain held his hands up in defense. "I'm not a part of this battle, Daniel."

"But you could be. Come on, you must have lots of stories. Stories we haven't heard a million times."

Intentionally or not, Robeson hadn't really been part of the hospital vigil, and Jack had liked it that way. But a break from the same old crap sounded awfully nice…

"Get in here, Robeson," he ordered. "Spill it."

Mike stepped further into the room with a grin, shutting the door conspiratorially behind him. "Well, let's see… there was the time Carter got into an all-out brawl in the mess hall over a difference in opinion about subspace travel. Oh, or the time she made Professor Renkins so mad the old man actually challenged her to a duel…"

Daniel grinned. Oh, yes. This was much better.

~/~

Week thirteen, then fourteen came and went with no change. It was the middle of week fifteen, in the middle of Colonel O'Neill's tactical briefing with SG-3, when Daniel rushed in, his arms in the air in triumph.

"Level Three!" he yelled, excited.

"What the hell does that mean?" Colonel Reynolds asked, confused.

Jack was already heading for the door, his heart in his throat. "It's a condition upgrade. Eight's normal. Daniel, what happened?"

"She opened her eyes, Jack. She opened her eyes and she looked right at me."

The colonel shoved down his disappointment at not being there and pressed for more. "Did she say anything? Do anything?"

"No. And it was just for a minute. But Jack…" Daniel's smile was infectious. "She's gonna be okay."

~/~

It was three days before Sam opened her eyes again, but this time, the whole crew was there. "Welcome back, Carter," Jack whispered softly, brushing a hand along her cheek.

He had forgotten how stunningly blue her eyes were, and even dull and half-open as they were, he was sucked in. The rest of the room disappeared.

Her eyes moved from him to Teal'c to Daniel and finally settled on Mike Robeson. Her brow twitched in confusion and she looked back to Jack.

"It's… a long story," he said. "Hang in there, and I'll tell you all about it, okay?"

She made a soft sound and closed her eyes, sinking back into the depths of sleep.

~/~

Jack blinked away fatigue at the end of week sixteen as he parked his truck in the hospital lot and headed in. SG-1 had just finished their post-deployment checkups, and the fact that Janet was there to give them meant Sam was alone in the hospital. It was far from the first time, but none of them really wanted her to wake up alone.

The neurology floor was oddly void of employees, Jack noticed as he walked down the hall toward Carter's room. Break time, he surmised, until he got closer to Carter's room and heard an almighty ruckus coming from inside it. He stepped up the pace, his heart pounding as he grabbed the doorknob and swung it open –

And Carter flew into his arms, nearly knocking him over. He grabbed one of her raised, bleeding arms and wrapped the other tightly around her waist. "Sir," she gasped. "Oh, God, thank God you're here. You've gotta get me out of here. They want to hurt me. Test me. Please, Jack. You've gotta get me out of here."

She didn't stop, ranting almost without breathing. Jack stared at her incredulously for a moment, then pulled himself together and looked past her. The room was destroyed, tables thrown and equipment flung apart. Alarms were going off everywhere. Two nurses stood in the corner, obviously scared out of their minds. One orderly was on the ground behind the bed, blood dripping from the hands that covered his nose, and Dr. Heiser stood on the other side, rubbing his jaw. The other orderly was quickly approaching with a needle, but Jack waved him back.

"What the hell is going on here?" he exclaimed. Carter was still ranting, begging, pleading with him to get her away.

"Welcome to Level Four," Dr. Heiser said dryly. "The confused/agitated stage."

"This is normal?" He couldn't believe his ears.

"Don't listen to him!" Sam begged. "Jack, please. I shouldn't be here!"

"Her brain isn't properly processing data, and there are holes in her memory. She's afraid, anxious, disoriented." Heiser wiggled a now loose tooth with his tongue and made a face. "And resourceful. And well-trained. And ridiculously strong for having spent four months in a bed. But the adrenaline can't last forever."

Jack nodded, beginning to get the idea. "Carter," he said gently, but she continued rambling about tests and needles and leaving as though he hadn't said a word. He shifted his grip to hold her up by her upper arms. "Carter, listen to me!" he yelled in her face. She went silent.

"Carter, do you trust me?" he asked gently.

"Sir, please." Tears streaked down her face as she looked up at him. "Please, I want to go home."

"I know. I want that, too." She was getting heavy, and he wrapped an arm around her waist again, stroking her face with his free hand. "Do you trust me?"

She sniffled. "Yes."

"Okay. Then listen to me, please. I know you're scared, and things don't make sense to you right now, but you're safe, okay?" She shook her head and opened her mouth to start in again, but he put a gentle finger over her lips. "Carter, I promise you that nothing bad is going to happen to you. I swear."

He tipped her chin up, looking deeply into her red, tear-filled eyes. After a moment, she said, almost a whisper, "okay."

"Good. Then let's get you back to bed, huh?" He was already bearing most of her weight, so he simply shifted his arms and picked her up, carrying her slight form easily back to the bed. "I'm gonna be right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded, and Jack could see that she was fighting heavy eyelids. She wasn't happy, but she let the nurses start reattaching the various tubes and monitors. Dr. Heiser started running through simple neurological tests with her as the bloody orderly got to his feet.

"You okay, Airman?" the colonel asked, not letting go of Carter's hand.

"Yes, sir. I could've stopped her, sir; I was just afraid I'd hurt her."

"I appreciate that." The man nodded and left the room, and Jack turned back to Carter's bed. She was starting to fail the tests as she fought fatigue, and Dr. Heiser eventually gave up and let her sleep.

"She's quite the pistol," he said, giving his jaw one more good rub. "I'm glad you showed up when you did."

"Any permanent damage?" the colonel asked, hiding a wry grin.

"I need a dentist, but no, I don't think so. That was really something."

"Yeah, she is." Jack scratched his forehead. "Doc – how long is this stage gonna last? I'm not sure I can handle crazy Carter."

The doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry, Colonel. I wish I had a good answer for that. I'm gonna give her a mild sedative, just to keep her from punching out any more orderlies."

Jack nodded. "Probably a good idea. When she gets going… she's a force to be reckoned with."

Heiser smiled. "My tooth agrees."


	7. Chapter 7

Thankfully, blissfully, psychoCarter did not make a reappearance in the next week. Though she was still confused and agitated and had a nasty habit of falling asleep mid-sentence, she wasn't violent. SG-1 tried to stay patient, frustrating as it was.

It was hardest on Mike Robeson. Carter's short-term memory was shot, and every time she saw him, she asked where he had come from, as though she hadn't spoken to him in years. In her mind, she hadn't.

As usual, a confused look crossed her face as Mike walked into the room. This time, though, he cut her off, plastering a huge smile on his face and throwing his arms out wide. "Hey, sexy!" he greeted.

Carter stared at him in shocked silence, and the other men chuckled. He'd won that round, for sure. When she looked at Daniel for an explanation, he just shook his head. "I'd explain it to you," he told her, "but you wouldn't remember it in the morning, so…"

They had stopped giving her detailed information on just about everything since the injury, knowing they'd only have to repeat it the next day and the day after. Daniel had once let slip that she'd been in a coma for the last four months. Sam had gotten extremely upset, even cried, at that, but by the next day, she had forgotten. They hadn't mentioned it again.

Instead, they concentrated on her physical therapy. Four months in a bed had badly atrophied her muscles, and even simple actions left her tired and sore. On top of that, the doctors said her motor cortex had been affected by the injury, and fine movement was very difficult for her. The first time Jack had taken her knife from her to cut her chicken, she had been so upset she couldn't eat.

The nurses were encouraging them to get as many calories into her as possible – and were willing to look the other way when they cheated a little to make that happen. Robeson set down the large bag he'd carried in and started putting the containers it held onto the small table in front of Sam. "So… we've got fried chicken-"

Sam made a face.

"Don't worry, I got two grilled drumsticks for you. Corn on the cob, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Oh, and cornbread." All easy to eat – mostly with the fingers, a little bit with a spoon. Jack nodded approval at the younger man, but he wasn't done. "And for Carter, a strawberry shake. And dessert – blue jello!" he announced, pulling a plastic bowl out of the bag. One of the cooks on base had started adding a tiny bit more gelatin to the recipe, making it just firm enough for Sam to eat neatly with her fingers. Jack had nearly fallen to his knees and pledged eternal allegiance to the man the first time he brought it to him.

Sam sipped on her shake, watching with mild concern as the men dove confidently into the food as if they'd done it a thousand times. "I don't understand. How did you know that I…." Daniel set a heaping plate and the whole bowl of jello in front of her, and she shook her head. "Never mind. I don't think I want to know."

~/~

Week nineteen, Dr. Heiser approved a short field trip, and Colonel O'Neill gently helped Sam into a wheelchair, draping a jacket around her shoulders and a blanket over her legs. "Comfy?"

"Yes, thank you."

"It'll be good for you to get some sunlight, huh?"

Sam smiled. The hospital was better than the mountain – at least there was a little natural light through the small windows every day, but the air was just as stale, and she was looking forward to leaving. Jack pushed her out the front doors and rolled her along the path outside, past gardens full of red- and orange-leaved trees. She was oddly silent.

Jack, as usual, had been having problems making good conversation with her – he felt like he'd used up most of his corny conversation starters in the early weeks in the hospital, and he'd never been good at serious conversation. And as Sam got better and the conversations got longer and heavier, Jack had backed away, leaving much of it to Daniel.

But Daniel and Teal'c were off world, and Jack was making a serious effort. He owed her that much – more, if he were honest. He pushed her wheelchair up next to a bench and took a seat.

"You're looking a lot better," he said. "Maybe they'll let you out soon." She had gained some weight since they'd put her back on solid foods, making her a little less skin and bone, and some of the color had returned to the skin that had gone so pale and gray. She still spent more time asleep than awake, but it was improving.

She nodded absently.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes, sir." But she didn't look at him.

"Everybody's anxious to have you back at the SGC," he tried again. "Siler's been beating his head against the walls."

"I'm not sure I'll be of any help to him just yet, sir," she answered. Her brain was still pretty fuzzy, and high-level physics theorems weren't her highest concern.

"It's getting better, right? Clearer?"

"Yes, sir. It's just not quite there yet." She busied herself scratching away the cuticle on the back of her thumb.

"You'll get there."

She shot him a quick, real smile. "I know, sir."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Carter picking at her nails, Jack trying to figure out how to get to her. In the end, it was Sam who broke the silence. "How's Robeson doing?"

"Fine. He's a good guy, but he's no you."

"Oh, I know," she assured him.

"We miss you," he said softly. She glanced at him, but looked away quickly. Jack finally decided to go the direct route. "Carter, what's bothering you?"

She went back to her nails.

"Is it Robeson? 'Cause believe me, we'd rather have you."

She shook her head.

"Then what? Carter, please."

"Sir… it's nothing you can really help with."

"I can try."

"It's just…." She bit her lip and finally met his eyes. "How do you ask a question you don't want the answer to?"

Jack sat back, considering her. "I guess you just say it."

"Okay. The last mission I remember… was in July. And now…" She looked around the gardens at the dying flowers and falling leaves.

Jack really wished he'd thought this field trip out better. "You were asleep for a long time, Carter," he murmured.

Her calm façade broke. "How could this happen?" she exclaimed. "One mission, and I just lost… what? Four months?"

"Almost five." The guilt was unbearable. He couldn't meet her eyes.

"And I keep asking what happened, and nobody can tell me."

He could feel her eyes boring into him and knew that that wasn't quite true. They had told her that he was there and that he wouldn't talk about it. Damn. "Carter… do you remember that mission? P4C-672?"

She shook her head. "I remember the briefing. I have… flashes, but I don't even know if they're real."

It was Jack's turn to go silent, and Sam's whispered question nearly broke him.

"Sir… was it my fault? Is that what no one will tell me?"

"No, Carter." He was just as quiet. "It wasn't your fault. It was mine." He stared at his hands. "I let you down, Carter."

"How?"

He shrugged, pushing to his feet. "I was watching my back and so were you," he clipped. "And a guy snuck up behind you and hit you with a pipe. I'm sorry, Carter."

"Did you get him?" she asked.

He spun on her, surprised. That wasn't what he had expected her to say. "Yeah. He's dead."

She nodded. "Next time we come up on N.I.D., remind me to take my schedule-40 along."

"Your what?"

A smile crossed her face. A brain injury, and she was still explaining herself to him. "It's a classification of pipe, sir."

"Oh."

"And you can stop blaming yourself now."

He huffed. "I'll, uh… work on that."


	8. Chapter 8

The seven of them – SG-1, Sam, Janet, and Cassie – celebrated Thanksgiving in the hospital that year. It was tradition, Teal'c brought up, to list one thing they were thankful for.

"This year, Teal'c, I think we'd all say the same thing," Daniel said.

"Well, I'm thankful for pumpkin pie!" Cassie joked.

"I'm thankful for the adventure of a lifetime," Mike Robeson added.

"I'm thankful for you guys. My family," Sam told them with a small smile. The day had been long for her, and she was already half asleep.

"We're thankful for you, Sam," Daniel answered.

"I'm thankful that my best friend is going to get out of the hospital later next week," Janet said.

They all looked at her in surprise. "I am?" Sam asked.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Jack said. "She's still pretty weak."

Sam slapped his arm.

"Oh, she's not going back to work for awhile yet," Janet reassured him. "But I think getting out of here would be a step in the right direction."

"Absolutely," Daniel agreed.

"Can't wait. I almost don't remember what my house looks like," Sam joked.

"I wanted to talk to you about that," Janet said. "I don't think you should go back there alone. I want you to stay with us, but I can't have you sleeping on my couch. So maybe we can set it up like we did here – somebody will be with you most of the time."

Sam cringed. "That's such a bother. I don't want to-"

"She'll stay with me." It was Jack, and it wasn't a suggestion.

Carter opened her mouth to argue, but Janet got there first. "Excellent."

"But-"

Janet waved her off. "I can make that a condition of your release, if you'd like."

"Okay, okay," she assented. "Now, for Pete's sake, somebody give me some pie."

~/~

Jack knew homecoming day was going to be a challenge when he ran into Carter's physical therapist leaving her room. "Sorry, sir," he said with a smile.

Colonel O'Neill sighed. "Cranky?" he asked.

"Sore. And tired. I'd feel bad for her, but-"

"But she needs somebody to kick her ass in a supervised fashion. If you don't, she will, and she'll hurt herself." He shook his head. "But today? Really? I was hoping she'd be awake for more than a couple of hours tonight."

The therapist raised a suggestive eyebrow at him. "Well, if I knew she'd be getting a workout at home tonight, I'd have gone easier on her this morning."

"I didn't mean that," Jack grumbled. He stepped past the man and into the room, fully expecting a tired, still bed-ridden Carter.

But she was out of bed, staring out the window. And while she had looked like hell for the past five months – even during PT she'd been in scrubby, baggy clothes with the weight she'd lost – she was cleaned up and… stunning. She wore a peachy sweater with a wide neck that hung off one shoulder and her hair was getting that curl it got from not being blow-dried. When she turned to face him, it took every ounce of energy he had not to bury his face in her hair and hug her hard enough to show her how scared he'd been.

"Hey, sir." Her face was slowly getting its color back, and her pink cheeks and lips were terribly cute.

"You look good, Carter."

"Thank you, sir. It's nice to wear real clothes."

"Yeah, I thought – I mean, your therapist just left, so…"

"Ah." She held up a stack of papers. "He was just giving me my discharge instructions, since I won't see him for a few days."

The orderly with the once-broken nose rolled a wheelchair into the room. "You ready, ma'am?" At her raised eyebrow, he said, "Policy, ma'am. Sorry."

Sam was mildly annoyed, but climbed into the chair without complaint and let the two men take her to the front doors. She climbed with effort into Jack's truck.

"You set?" he asked. It only took a few minutes to get to Sam's house, but he could tell the jarring of the vehicle was difficult for her. He pulled the truck as close to her front door as possible and offered her an arm to escort her in.

"I'm just gonna throw some things into a suitcase, sir. Would you pack up my laptop?" she asked, already heading toward the steps.

"Sure. I'll come grab the suitcase when you're done." Jack headed for her office and started the slow process of disconnecting all of her external monitors from her laptop. He didn't really know what he was doing, but he figured if it was plugged in to the laptop itself, it could be pulled. Then he started the long hunt for her laptop bag. He finally found it in a closet and stuffed the laptop, a mouse, and the power supply into the bag. Scanning the desk, he found a few writeable DVDs and threw them in, too. None of this stuff existed at his house, he figured, and he was trying his best to make it feel like home.

A loud thud came from the foyer, and Jack instantly dropped the laptop bag and took off down the hall. A suitcase was lying on its face at the bottom of the stairs, and he swung around the corner and charged up the steps.

Sam was sitting five steps down from the top, a train case at her side, with her knees up and her face in her hands. "I'm okay," she whispered.

"Carter, what happened?" he asked softly.

"I just… I thought I could do it." Her head sunk even lower.

Sitting next to her, Jack wrapped his arms around her gently, and she set her head on his shoulder. "Give it time, Carter. You've been out of the hospital for twenty minutes and you're already trying to overdo it." It occurred to him how close she must have come to tumbling down the stairs right behind her suitcase, and it made him a little nauseous.

"I'm sorry."

He could have sat like that all day, but he was anxious to get Sam to someplace a little more level, and he gently pulled her to her feet. Wrapping a firm arm around her tiny waist, he helped her gently to the bottom of the steps and handed her only the train case. "I'll be right back," he promised as he disappeared for a moment to grab the laptop bag, then he collected the suitcase and Sam and headed back to the truck.

Thankfully, everyone else was already at Jack's house, and Teal'c and Daniel came out to help with her stuff, leaving the colonel to help Sam out of the truck and onto the middle of the couch. Janet was immediately kneeling in front of her. "How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted," she answered. "And I haven't done anything."

Janet assured her that it was normal and would pass, and the evening started in earnest. Sam made it through dinner, but half an hour into the first movie she was passed out against Colonel O'Neill's chest, pinning him to the corner of the sofa. "T, a little help here?" he whispered as the credits rolled.

Robeson watched with interest as the massive Jaffa knelt in front of the couch and tenderly touched his friend's cheek. "Samantha Carter," he murmured, "I believe I should carry you upstairs for the evening."

"Mkay," she mumbled, lifting her arms slightly. He put them around his neck and lifted her as if she were no bigger than a small child.

As the man disappeared up the stairs, Robeson felt a little twinge of regret. He had never seen a team as close as this one, let alone been part of it. He would be sad to leave, and sadder still that no matter what he said or did, he would always be an outsider. SG-1 was a closed unit – and he wasn't part of it.


	9. Chapter 9

It was the week before Christmas when Janet finally cleared Sam to come into the SGC, and Sam was ecstatic, even if it was only for a few hours. Jack knew that she had been going stir crazy in the house – she had watched every DVD he owned, reformatted her computer at least once, disassembled and rebuilt her cell phone just for the hell of it, and, for all he knew, redone the entire internet singlehandedly.

But her physical therapist was a tyrant, and when Sam crashed, she crashed hard. She was still barely able to stay awake more than eight hours or so at a time, and while Jack had once found watching Carter sleep to be a nice thing – maybe the fact that he had used it to sneak looks had made it even more appealing – it now terrified him.

At least he wasn't alone in that. Daniel had caught him once, standing in the corner of her room, chewing the inside of his lip. "It makes me nervous," he'd said, "seeing her asleep. I feel like she's one tiny step away from that hospital bed."

No matter how hard he tried, the colonel couldn't chase the image from his head – Carter, laying in his arms, blood streaming down her pale face. It woke him sometimes in the middle of the night, and he had to see her, touch her, know that she was okay.

He was losing it. He'd been losing it since the moment she'd been injured, but the very real possibility of her figuring it out had only just become a problem, and Jack wasn't sure what to do. And while Carter was thrilled to get back to work, a part of Jack was petrified: the closer she came to medical clearance, the closer she came to going back into the field. Closer to danger. And he knew now that he couldn't protect her from everything.

He also knew that he couldn't live with himself if it happened again.

~/~

Christmas came and went without much fuss. They always had it at Janet's, since Cassie was the only kid, and they'd long ago silently decided that they didn't really need to get each other presents. But four days later, Daniel, Teal'c, Janet, and Cassie showed up on Jack's doorstep with boxes in hand.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, but she stepped back to let them in anyway.

"Sam," Daniel said gently, "It's your birthday."

Carter pinched the bridge of her nose. "Right." She'd been making steady progress, but occasionally she would find something that hadn't recovered yet – a memory the guys held and she didn't, a word she couldn't quite find… or her birthday. The reminders of her injury were never kind, but no one talked about it.

They ate dinner as usual, then settled her onto the couch and brought over their presents. Everyone sat a box on the dining room table except the colonel.

"Jack… you forgot," Daniel accused.

"No," he defended in the childlike voice he reserved for just such occasions. "I just… Well, no."

"It's okay, sir," Sam assured him, grabbing Daniel's present off the coffee table. She carefully opened it to find a long photo frame containing cartoon frames about Schrodinger's cat. She read them and chuckled. "Thank you, Daniel."

"I saw them and couldn't resist," he said with a smile.

Janet's present was next – a basket with a candle, bath salts, and every other indulgence a woman could possibly wish for. "I figured you wouldn't go to a spa, but it's been awhile, right?" she asked.

Sam nodded truthfully. "And I didn't think to grab any of it from my place. Thank you."

Teal'c's present came in a gigantic box, and he pushed it toward the couch for her to open without getting up. Inside was a full yoga starter set – a mat, blocks, and straps – plus yoga and Pilates DVDs. "Doctor Frasier assured me such activity would be helpful to you," he stated.

She smiled. "Y'know, I always thought yoga was too soft for me," she said, "but that was when I could walk more than half a mile without passing out. I'll give it a try."

Cassie's gift was last, flat like Daniel's, and she opened it to find a photo collage – pictures of the six of them throughout the years. In the center was a picture of Jack and Sam swinging a young Cassie by the arms, and Sam couldn't help but smile at the memory. "Cassie, this is…" At a complete loss for words, she ran a finger lovingly over the image and simply said, "Thank you so much."

They didn't stay very long after that - they had grown accustomed to Sam going to bed early, and they knew she would try to stay up and exhaust herself if they didn't leave. Colonel O'Neill took Janet's basket up to her bathroom, put the art from Daniel and Cassie on the mantel, and left the yoga equipment out for her to use. Sam was halfway down the dark hallway to the stairs when she heard his voice.

"I didn't forget, Carter." The colonel was standing just a few feet behind her.

"Sir, it's really okay. I mean, even I forgot. I didn't expect anything, anyway." She meant it.

"No, Carter," he said softly. "I didn't forget." He held out his hand, and for the first time Sam saw the small black velvet box he carried. Her breath caught a little as she took it from him and flipped it open.

"Oh, my God," she gasped. Inside the box was a necklace – seven diamonds set from small to large in a slightly serpentine-shaped white gold pendant. The diamond at the bottom was the biggest she'd ever actually touched, and they glittered like fire even in the dim light. "It's so beautiful," she breathed.

While Sam was staring at it, Jack was staring at her – how her lips parted slightly in wonder and the tiny reflected light particles danced across her eyes. "Happy birthday, Carter."

By the time she managed to tear her eyes away from the sparkling jewelry, he was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

Jack intentionally headed to the SGC before Sam woke the next day. Since Janet was taking her to her therapy session that day, it worked out perfectly. He'd escaped before she'd said anything about the necklace the night before, and he still wasn't sure he was ready to talk about it. Hell, he didn't quite know what it meant himself. And it had taken all the courage he possessed to give it to her.

He was grateful that SG-1 brought dinner that night, knowing that she wouldn't say anything with the others around. But the delicate white gold chain peeked out from under the neckline of her shirt, and he couldn't hold back a smile.

He managed to dodge her through the rest of the next day, as well – it was harder this time, since that was one of the three days a week that Sam was allowed to come into the SGC for the morning – and the crowd showed up again for New Year's Eve. This time, at Sam's request, it included Mike Robeson, and she watched his interactions carefully throughout the night. It was nearly eleven when she said something quietly to Janet and the two of them left the living room.

The others were still glued to the television (and the appetizers) when a loud, surprised cry of "Holy crap, Sam!" came from the office. Daniel immediately got to his feet, but Jack waved him off with a chuckle, earning several suspicious looks.

In Jack's dining room, Janet stared open-mouthed at the diamond necklace her friend had just revealed. "I don't believe it."

"Isn't it beautiful?" Sam couldn't keep from smiling.

"It's more than that. Do you have any idea what that cost?" Janet hissed.

"I… I hadn't thought about that. How much, do you think?"

"A couple of thousand, at least. Three or four, I'd bet."

Sam was stunned. "I can't take this," she said finally. "That's… No. I have to give it back."

"Oh, you're not giving that back."

"But he shouldn't have-"

"Maybe he shouldn't have," Janet interrupted, "but he did. And a man does not give something like this by accident."

"What do you think it means?" Sam had been puzzling over it for two days, and while she had many theories, they were all a little implausible.

"What do _you_ think it means?" her friend challenged.

"I don't know. I think… I think maybe it's an apology. I know he thinks what happened is his fault."

Janet looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "I think," she said, "it's a journey necklace. You should look that up. And as far as I'm concerned, diamonds like this only ever mean one thing." She left, whistling "Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend."

Sam ran her thumb delicately over the curvature of the piece before tucking it back under her shirt. Whatever statement he was trying to make, it was a big one. And he was waiting for her to make the next move.

She just prayed she wasn't getting it all wrong.

~/~

Jack and Sam silently occupied themselves for the next few days. They couldn't very well avoid each other, living in the same house, but they didn't interact much past the usual "how was your day?" and nods and smiles. Both were grateful when the news predicted an unseasonably warm Saturday and Jack invited the team over to grill out before their week-long deployment to P2X-465.

When the doorbell rang early that afternoon, he shot Sam a puzzled look and opened it to find Mike Robeson standing outside. "Y'know, you're the only one who doesn't just barge into my house," he told him.

"I'm the new kid, remember?" the captain teased, and Jack stood back to let him in with a snort.

"Yeah. And the first kid to the party, apparently."

"Oh?" Robeson looked around the living room, apparently surprised by that. "I thought Sam said three."

"Ah." Jack shut the door and said to him softly, "I told her three thirty. Want something to drink?"

"Sure, sir."

The colonel disappeared to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge, but stared into it for a long time. "Carter? Where's the beer?" he finally asked.

"In the fridge," she answered automatically, but she was already moving toward him.

"Uh, no, it's not."

"It should be."

"Well, I know it should be." He stepped back to let Sam peer into the fridge for a moment. "Think really hard, Carter – this is beer we're talking about," he ordered, but there was laughter in his voice. "What did you do with it when you put away the groceries?"

"I don't… I mean, I thought…" She closed the fridge and opened the freezer. When she didn't find it, she stuck her head in the garage and mudroom, then finally looked in the oven. "I don't know, sir," she told him, starting to sound upset.

"You know what?" Robeson spoke up, moving toward the open breakfast bar. "I'll just go get some."

"No, you just got here," Sam insisted. "I'll go."

"Hell, no, Carter," Jack said. "I'll go." And that, as usual, was the end of the argument.

Mike took a seat at the bar across the counter as Jack quickly got his jacket and headed out the front door. Carter's eyes, he noticed, followed every step, and when the door closed behind him, she ducked quickly under the kitchen sink and emerged with two brand new six-packs of beer. They had condensation all over them, he noticed, so they hadn't been out of the fridge very long.

"I've been set up," he realized aloud.

She silently took the beer and stuck it back in the fridge.

"You don't think he's gonna notice it when he comes back?"

"Oh, he'll notice it," she assured him. "He just won't say anything. Brain injury, remember?"

He shook his head slowly. "You are a scary, scary woman, Sam Carter."

Quickly circling the counter, she took a seat next to him. "He's just going to the corner. We don't have much time, so I'll cut to the chase. How do you like the SGC?"

He coughed. "That's cutting to the chase? What are you chasing, exactly?" She just looked at him expectantly, so he went on. "I like it. It's probably the coolest job I could ever imagine, and I can't believe I get to be a part of it. What do you want me to say?"

"And SG-1?"

"Good guys. They miss you."

She shook her head. "I'm talking about you. They treat you okay?"

"Considering that every time they look at me they're reminded that you're missing, sure."

Shooting him a derogatory look, she smacked his knee. "Play along, will you? This is important."

"They treat me fine, Sam. I told you, they're good guys."

"So you like the team?"

"Yes!" he said, exasperated. "Will you please tell me what this is all about?"

"I just…" She busied herself picking at the edge of the countertop. "You're probably the best guy I could think of for the job, Mike."

His eyes went a bit wide. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It just means that… if I can't be out there with them, I can't imagine a better person."

The captain rocketed off the stool and into the middle of the living room. "Now, I know you're not insinuating what I think you are, because it's stupid. I had to swear up and down to them that you would get your spot back when you were better to get them to even look at me. As soon as you're ready, I'm gone, or Colonel O'Neill will kill me."

"And you want to leave?"

"Hell, no, but it's not up to me."

"You're right," she clipped. "It's up to me."

His anger faded away, and he bit his lip. "Aw, Sam, look. I know you – or I used to – so I know you probably feel bad about kicking me off the team, right? But I think I've done pretty well. I think they'll put me on another team, if I really ask. I might even be able to get Colonel O'Neill to give me a recommendation, if you'll put in a good word for me. But this is your team. It will always be your team, Sam, and I won't take that from-"

Jack bustled through the front door with a six-pack in each hand and another under each arm. "Bought him out," he declared, "but there's beer."

The deer-in-headlights look he got from both of them was fairly priceless. It made him suspicious. "Everything okay in here?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. I was just warning him that you always burn the brats, sir," Sam answered quickly.

Robeson grabbed two of the packs of beers from his CO. Jack got to the fridge first, opened it, and stopped dead at the sight of the two packs already there. He glanced quickly at Sam, then started shoving the other boxes in with it. "Good thing you can never have too much beer," he said cheerily.

When Mike looked up, Sam's warning glare was burning into him. "Creepy, Sam," he mouthed at her silently. "Creepy."


	11. Chapter 11

SG-1 deployed late Sunday evening, leaving Sam to herself. She considered packing up and going home, even got her suitcase mostly packed, but then put it all away again.

She didn't need to be at Colonel O'Neill's anymore. Janet had even told her so, and she was pretty sure the colonel knew it, too. She was mostly recovered, memory blips aside – Janet was even letting her spend one full day and two half days at the SGC each week – and though the guys didn't want her driving herself to PT, there was no reason they couldn't pick her up from her house. But there was something about this place, his place, even when he wasn't there.

And besides, her plan would be much harder to carry out if she went home.

Instead, Sam spent the week doing exactly what Janet had suggested at Christmas – pampering herself. She had felt stupid doing it with the colonel around, but long baths did wonders to ease the tension and ache of PT. A few nights of facial masks and perfumed body lotion later, she felt nearly back to best form. She was hardly a girly girl, but the occasional indulgence felt great. Besides – though she was including five months she didn't really remember – she hadn't done that in almost a year.

So, like any woman, she went shopping. She returned with multiple opaque bags, which she shoved deep, deep into the back of a drawer.

The colonel returned the next evening looking perfectly healthy, but exhausted. Still, he stopped to ask how her week was, allowing a brief conversation before he excused himself to go to bed.

Sam had assumed as much – she'd been in his place, after all – and let the moment pass. But the next evening as he headed toward the stairs, she followed him into the hall. "Sir, can we talk?"

He froze in place for several seconds before turning around. "Carter," he said slowly, "those are the three worst words in the human language. They strike fear into the hearts of men around the world. What could possibly be important enough to warrant those words?"

"I spoke to General Hammond yesterday."

"Yeah, that's not better."

She couldn't stop a smile. "You know that Colonel Henrick is retiring at the end of the month, right?"

"I think I saw a memo, yeah. Head of the geeks?"

"The research department, yes," she amended. "Starting next week, I'll be helping him almost full-time until his retirement, to get an idea of how things run."

He smiled. "That's great, Carter."

"It is?" She hadn't expected him to take that nearly so well.

"Yeah. It'll be good for you to get back to work, and I can't think of anybody better to cover the position until they find a permanent replacement. Can't imagine it'll be easy."

"Ah." She cleared her throat, killing time. "Actually, I would be the permanent replacement."

That did it. He stared at her silently, open-mouthed. His mind was racing. This was good – research was safe, solid. No more bullets, staff weapons, crazy men with drugs and knives…

No more Carter. No more adventures, secret smiles, shared campfires, accidental touches. No excuse to visit or bother her for no reason. Or to see her at all. He couldn't live with that.

"No," he said finally. "You can't do that."

"Sir-"

"Carter, no!" His anger was working up now, and Sam was glad she'd gotten a heads-up from Mike about his reaction. "The spot on SG-1 is yours," he seethed, "and if General Hammond made it seem any different to you, I'll… I'll punch the man. I know you like Robeson and all, but he is not you, Carter. SG-1 needs you."

"Sir, that's not it."

"Then what?" Exasperated, he slammed his hand into the hall table, and it seemed to calm him a bit. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle, beseeching. "Is it the memory thing? 'Cause we can deal with that, Carter. If you don't think you're ready quite yet, that's fine, but don't shut off your options. You belong out there. With us."

She shook her head. "Please, let me explain."

"You can explain, Carter, but it won't change anything," he argued. At her plaintive look, he sighed. "Go ahead."

"Sir, I decided what I was going to do with my life when I was fourteen. I was going to go to the Academy and get all the schooling I could with the Air Force, serve out my term flying, if they'd let me, and then head to NASA. And everything was going according to plan until the Gulf War ended and they stuck me on Project Giza."

Jack hadn't heard that designation since the first trip to Abydos, but he vaguely remembered the old code name. "Carter… have you really been that unhappy?" he asked.

"No, of course not," she said with a smile. "Life isn't supposed to end up the way you plan it at fourteen. The last five years have been… amazing. And so much more than I ever dreamed."

"But?"

"But there was this other part of the plan. The two point three kids and the white picket fence part, and… when the Stargate program started, I always told myself that we'd win the war and it would all go back to normal and I could still have all that." She was talking fast, too fast, but she couldn't help it. "Someday."

"You're still young, Carter," he told her. "And we are winning. You have to know that."

"I know that. All of it," she said. "But I almost died, sir. And I've had a lot of time to think about it, and I can't wait for 'someday' anymore. Life is too fleeting for that."

Jack scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration. "Carter, SG-1 is kind of an anomaly, you know. A bunch of the guys have families, kids." She started to speak, but he held up a hand to stop her. "I know we eat up a lot of your time, and I guess we didn't consider that you might want a life outside us. We'll back off, if that's what you want. You can have that life and SG-1." It would kill him, but if that was the only way to keep her, he'd do it.

She gave him a small smile. "No, actually, I can't."

"Well, why the hell not?"

She took a tiny step toward him, but looked at the floor. _Screw your courage, Carter_, she told herself, and took a leap. "Because that life I mentioned, the kids and the house and the white picket fence? The person I want to share that life with… is you."

When she dared to look up, he was staring at her, his eyes dark and intense. Her breath caught as he started to move ever so slowly toward her.

"Carter," he growled, never breaking eye contact, "are you messing with me?"

Suddenly she was less convinced. His face was impossible to read. "No," she answered, but it came out with a squeak that made it sound oddly like a question. Her heart beat harder in her chest with every small step he took. "I don't… think so…" she stammered.

He was chest to chest with her then, their faces only inches apart, and Carter couldn't breathe. There was an excellent chance that she had just blown her world to pieces.

Then, with no warning, he dropped his head and tenderly brushed his lips across hers. Her eyes slipped closed, and she reached up and kissed him back just as softly. His hands slipped up to cup her face softly as he gently, carefully took her bottom lip between his and caressed it with his tongue.

A soft moan slipped from Sam's throat, and Jack pulled away as if he'd been stung.

"Sir?"

In a heartbeat, his hands slid to her back and he pulled her into an impossibly tight hug, burying his face in her neck. "I thought I'd lost you," he whispered.

"You're not gonna lose me," she murmured. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

After a moment, she felt his lips move again. He kissed his way up to her ear and gently teased the soft spot behind it until she sighed softly. He let his lips trail down the side of her neck to the delicate chain that still hid there, and he followed it past her collarbone to the flat of her chest.

She wore a shallow v-neck sweater, but the pendant was lower. He deftly found the hemline of her sweater and pulled it up over her head so he could continue his ministrations, but was momentarily distracted by the deep plum lace he found there. "Got a hot date, Carter?"

"God, I hope so," she breathed.

His laugh rumbled against her chest as he resumed his task, alternatively nipping and soothing the skin around the pendant. Her head dropped back in pleasure as he widened the perimeter and his five o'clock shadow brushed roughly against the delicate skin in the plunge of her bra.

The contrast of the cool air and his hot hands and lips against her skin was thrilling, and her hands came up to tangle in his hair just as he dropped lower, kissing a soft line down her stomach. The muscles rippled beneath his mouth, and he chuckled softly as he unbuttoned her jeans and slid them slowly down her legs.

As she stepped out of them, he admired the matching set of lingerie from his place low on her stomach.

"Sir," she said softly. When he didn't stop, she tried again. "Jack."

That caught his ear, and he looked up at her expectantly.

"Take me to bed," she whispered.

He shot her an evil grin, and she let out a shriek of surprise and delight as he wrapped both arms around her thighs and swiftly lifted her up over his shoulder. "Yes, ma'am."

Carter giggled the whole way up the steps.


	12. Chapter 12

Awareness came blissfully slowly to Sam Carter, the dull ache she felt bringing back rapturous memories. Letting out a soft sigh, she rolled over to her newfound lover, ready to wake him in the most delicious way she could think of.

Her hand hit nothing but mattress.

She snapped awake. This was bad. She was in his room, in his bed. The night before had been amazing, and she knew it wasn't a dream, but where was he? He had said he loved her, hadn't he? Had he lied? Had second thoughts?

Soft voices came from downstairs, and she tried to calm the shake in her hands as she pushed the sheets aside and headed for the shower.

~/~

Jack was making eggs in the kitchen when Sam finally appeared at the bottom of the steps. She was back in her scrubby recovery clothes – Air Force shorts and a t-shirt. That bothered him a little, but what bothered him most were her eyes – she was anxious.

"Morning," he greeted softly. He wanted nothing more than to go kiss her senseless, but SG-1 was watching TV in the next room and the eggs on the stove were almost done.

"Morning," she answered, but her eyes dropped to the floor and she moved toward the others.

He dropped the spatula in the skillet and was beside her in a second, gently touching her arm. His head dipped, and he tipped her chin up to meet his eyes. "You okay?" he whispered. He knew SG-1 would see them if they looked, but they didn't need to hear this particular conversation.

"You were gone," she said simply.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I get it."

She tried to step away, but he held her, brushing her hair gently away from her face. "Carter, wait. Daniel got here early this morning. I heard him moving around and I wanted to stop him before he decided to come check on you. Since, you know," he murmured conspiratorially, stepping even closer, "you were naked and in my bed."

Her eyes widened. "I thought…"

"I told you I loved you, Carter," he insisted softly. "I wouldn't lie about that."

A smile spread slowly across her face. "I'm sorry." After a moment, she added, "They're watching us."

"You'd already be on your back on this counter if they weren't." He waggled a suggestive eyebrow at her. "But I didn't know how much you wanted to tell them."

Her smile grew as she wrapped a firm hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down. "This much," she whispered, gently capturing his lips with her own. He responded eagerly, pulling her body flush against him.

Only the wail of the smoke alarm could break them apart, and it let out a screech just moments later. "D'oh!" Jack scowled, running for the now-black eggs on the stove. He yanked them off the burner, grabbed the newspaper, and started to frantically fan the ceiling. When the alarm quit, he looked back to Carter and found her leaning against the doorway, laughing openly at him.

"I don't suppose there's any way to make that look suave?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Damn."

"Uh… Somebody want to tell us what's going on?" The three were lined up on the other side of the counter, staring at them, but Daniel was the first of SG-1 to find his voice.

"Is it not obvious, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c asked.

Mike Robeson just stared at them, suddenly understanding the conversation he'd had with Sam earlier. She hadn't wanted to rejoin SG-1 because there was something else she wanted more – and now she had it.

"Daniel," Jack began slowly, wrapping his arms around Sam from behind, "when a man and woman love each other very much-"

Sam dissolved into hysterical laughter, and he squeezed her tighter.

"No, no, I'm serious. This is great, but… what the hell happened?"

Smiling, Sam turned into Jack's arms. "I finally decided to go after what I really want," she murmured.

"Not to sound selfish, then, but what about us?" he asked. "Does this mean…?"

"It means it's a good day for not one, not two, but three people," Jack announced. "Because we're ecstatic, and it looks like Robeson gets to keep his job."

"Then I believe it is a good day for us all, O'Neill," Teal'c intoned.

"Thank you, Teal'c," Sam answered, but Jack smothered anything else with a heated kiss.

"So I should probably stop knocking and just walking in, huh?" Daniel puzzled.

"Yes!" Sam exclaimed, a little horrified at the thought.

"Let me make this abundantly clear, Daniel – you walk in on us, and I'll kill you."

Daniel grinned. "Good to know love hasn't softened you, Jack."


	13. Epilogue

Sam finished putting away the dishes and stepped out onto the wraparound porch, taking a deep breath of warm, fresh air. Five years in the new house, and she still relished it – especially the porch. And the fantastic backyard.

And the picnic table, at which Mike Robeson sat with Juliette, working on her algebra.

"Algebra?" Jack had protested. "She's six years old!"

"Good thing she got your wife's brain _and_ her looks, sir," Robeson had answered snidely.

Sam's gaze shifted over to the backyard, where Daniel was playing catch and babbling contentedly in Latin with four-year-old Jack Junior – Jack hadn't wanted the name, but it fit. The boy could be a little devil in the most loveable way.

She turned and leaned against the railing, looking through the French doors at the littlest one, baby Anne, who had completely stolen one big alien's heart. Teal'c was spooning pureed carrots into her tiny mouth in his typical elaborate fashion.

Sam had bought Teal'c the airplane spoon as a joke after the first time she'd watched him try to convince Juliette to eat as a baby.

"Is this not how the Tau'ri feed their infants, Samantha Carter?" he had asked, and looked a little crushed when she informed him that the sound effects weren't necessary. Three kids later, he still made the sound.

"Penny for 'em." Jack wandered up the steps to the porch and grabbed the railing on either side of her, trapping her in.

"I was just thinking how nice this is," she answered with a smile. "One kid per uncle. Perfect."

He leaned closer, one eyebrow raised. "And when do we get to have one for us?"

"As soon as you learn how to bear children," she shot back sweetly. She knew he loved kids, and she did, too, but there was a limit. And the five-mile run just couldn't seem to make her stomach flat anymore – not that Jack seemed to mind.

He pouted at her answer and pressed her up against the railing. "You say that now," he murmured, "but you might change your mind. And just in case… we should keep practicing, right?" Leaning in, he kissed her deeply, passionately, and she wrapped both arms around his neck.

When he pulled back a little, she stayed close, moving her lips to his ear. "Absolutely," she whispered hotly.

He jerked his head back in surprise. "You are a naughty, naughty woman," he scolded softly. Glancing around furtively, he checked to make sure that each of his children was occupied before grabbing her hand and pulling her back toward the house. "And I am a dirty, dirty man."

She laughed. "Don't ever change."


End file.
